Here I stand, upon the grass
Of battle-sodden ground
Once known by meadows fresh and green
Now flat and blood soaked mound
The fresh young forest weathers so
When cavalry arrive
To see the land so torn apart
But still the flora thrives
And here is where I often lay
To gaze upon the sky
Where clouds of silk and drifts of light
Accompany sunrise
But where did gentle fingers go
That weave the ebb and flow
Of nurtured nature growing here
Where timeless wonders roam
And next become the flashing lights
That permeate the frost
Of gifted snowfall sinking here
Give way when night has lost
And here I stand, before the door
That holds an answer dear
That always feeds a fire close
And quells the growing fear
YOU ARE READING
All the little lights
PoetryMy challenge to you is to read my poems and find your own meanings Votes and comments are very much appreciated:)
